Insights
by miXiZ
Summary: A collection of short insights from certain on the show characters on our boys. Ideas for further chapters very welcome. Now up: Season 1, Dean POV in "Shadow".
1. Pilot

_**AN: This is a collection of short scenes from the series from a certain POV. Emebalia tried to talk me into participating in the nanowri-whatever but I don't think I'd manage that time wise. So I am settling for these short flings to capture some vibes from the show. And I'll start now even though it's not yet November.**_

 ** _I own nothing regarding supernatural and I write just for fun._**

 ** _Thanks go out to NerdAngel for keeping me company and helping me develope ideas. Just add salt ;)_**

 ** _***sn***_**

 **Sam POV**

I am tilting my head, trying to improve my hearing. I'm sure I heard a noise, like a soft footstep on the carpet in our apartment. Holding up a hand to signal Jess to be quiet, I slowly sneak closer to our bedroom door. It's not closed, only leaned on, and I'm glad because it allows me to open it noiselessly without giving away my position.

I curse myself for not having anything handy to use as a weapon. Pushing the door slightly ajar I'm keeping my fingers crossed it won't squeak. Just a tiny bit more open, so I can have a better look. The hair in the back of my beck stands on edge when I make out a dark, human shaped shadow through the doorway that's leading to the unlit hallway. The silhouette stands out against the slight shine of street lights and illuminated windows from the apartments across.

The shadow moves, like it's looking for something, or trying to figure out what to do next, what to take. Could be a burglar. I refuse to believe the things that go bump in the night are back in my life.

Holding my breath I slip out the door, keeping in the shadows. The intruder lifts his head. Has he heard me? My heartbeat speeds up against my will and I take a deep quiet breath to calm myself. Every muscle in my body is tense, coiled, ready to jump. The man takes a step in my direction, entering the room, then another one.

He is close enough now and I attack. Jumping out of the shadows I grab the man's shoulder. He explodes into a move that makes me lose my grip and swings at me. I duck, in full fight mode now. I feel myself being pulled forward and we grapple for controll, punching, kicking, blocking blows. All of a sudden I find myself on my back, pinned down to the ground.

"Whoa, easy tiger," my opponent smirks and I manage to get my first real look at him. I freeze as despite the dim light I find myself staring in familiar piercing green eyes.

"Dean?"

 _ **AN2: Please share your thoughts and if you have, ideas, for further scenes either via review or pm. Next up will be a short from S1 "Dead In The Water", Lucas POV on Dean.**_


	2. Dead in the water

**AN: Thanks for the reviews and ideas. I will certainly consider them soon. This here is from "Dead In The Water". Enjoy! Just add salt ;)**

 _ *****sn*****_

 **Lucas POV**

My hand is moving the crayon over the paper. The voices in my head are telling it what to draw. I don't even know myself what I draw before it's finished. It's my way to speak, since my lips won't move. I've tried, but they just won't obey.

From the corner of my eyes I see the two men that asked my mom about dad's death. The one was quite nice but still my lips wouldn't move. The tall one is talking to my mom. The nice one comes strolling over. I hope he doesn't want me to talk. What if I still can't bring my lips to move? My hand moves faster over the picture and I concentrate on finding out what I'm drawing.

"How's it going?" he asks and kneels down next to me. I try to ignore him so I won't have to try and speak and he picks up a toy soldier. I can see he's saying more but my ears are buzzing and I don't hear a thing he says. The buzzing stops when he picks up a crayon himself and sits next to me and starts to draw.

"You know, I'm thinking you can hear me, you just don't want to talk. I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how you feel. When I was your age, I saw something."

Sure, I can hear you just fine. But it's not like I don't want to talk. I just can't. It's almost like I forgot how to do it. And yes, what I saw was real bad. What did you see?

"Anyway. Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh... or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake. Okay, no problem. This is for you."

He holds out his picture of... stick figures? Seriously? Hmm, sure nobody will listen to me. I don't speak so how could they listen?

He points to his paper. "This is my family. That's my dad. That's my mom. That's my geek brother, and that's me." He pauses. I see the picture but I don't look at it. He sighs.

"All right, so I'm a sucky artist. I'll see you around, Lucas."

He drops the paper next to me and gets up to go. Don't go! I'm trying to speak. Really. I just forgot how to do it. I pick up his drawing to look at it and all of a sudden my hands want to draw something new.

The nice man is standing by the tall one and my mom again, talking. My hands are flying across my paper drawing out what I see in front of my mind's eye. When I'm done I get up and walk over to the small group. This picture is for the nice man. He didn't pressure me to talk. I think he really understood.

"Hey sweetie," my mom says, smiling sadly.

I hold out my picture to the nice man. He takes a look at it, then looks at me.

"Thanks. Thanks, Lucas," he says, and I can hear he really means it.


	3. Wendigo

_**Part 3 of my scene insights. Thank you to everyone reviewing. This is from "Wendigo" Season 1 - a request by LilyBolt. Hope I meet your expectations. Just add salt. ;)**_

 *****sn*****

 **Dean POV**

"Why are we still even here?"

Seriously, Sammy? I can't believe you're asking me that. Did you forget why we do what we do while geek partying at Stanford? Alright, take it easy, Dean. Cut the kid some slack and remind him. I grab Dad's journal and turn to face Sam. He looks at me and I tap the book, directing his attention on it.

"This is why," I reply, while looking my tall little brother in the eyes. Only he looks down at the journal. "This book. This is Dad's single most valuable possession - everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us."

I search Sam's face to see his reaction and he briefly lifts his gaze from the leather bound object to look at me.

"I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things."

I sort of pause, looking at my little brother, no doubt the urgency in my words also showing on my face.

"The family business."

Sam shakes his head, looking away. I get it. He got out. He got away. And now it all came crashing back onto him. But I need him on this. I can't do it alone.

He runs his hands over his face as if to rub off the burden. "That makes no sense. Why doesn't he just... call us? Why doesn't he... tell us what he wants? Tell us where he is?"

I don't know, Sammy. But I know we have to keep going. Keep looking. Keep hunting things. Keep saving people.

"I don't know. But the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it."


	4. Everybody loves a clown

**AN: NerdAngel's request... Ellen meets the boys. I must admit, it was tougher than I thought. Hope I do it justice. From "Everybody loves a Clown". Just add salt ;)**

 *****sn*****

 **Ellen POV**

I was in the back room of my saloon, starting to get things ready for a new day. The sun was up bright but I knew for a fact that Ash was still passed out on the bar. A noise from outside made me halt and freeze and instinctively reach for my handgun.

"Hello? Anybody there?"

Someone was out there alright. The voice was muffled but strong. No respectable hunter or other visitor would pull up at a bar at 9am so whoever was there was either up to no good or in dire need of help. That voice was too strong to be in bad shape and it lacked the urgency of someone calling for help.

More muffled talking was audible but I couldn't make out the words. Jo appeared in the door frame, her rifle in her hands. She had heard the voices, too. I nodded at her and Jo disappeared to hide in the bar room. It wouldn't be the first time we dealt with scum that thought robbing an out in the boondocks bar would be a brilliant idea.

A rattling at the door and the minute tell tale squeak you could only hear if you were listening for it told me they were coming in, footsteps heavy on the wooden floorboards. For wannabe robbers they sure didn't try to be quiet. A few moments passed, nothing but the slow steps disturbing the silence.

"Hey buddy," I heard the first voice from outside again, followed by more footsteps. After a moment's silence it continued. "I'm guessing that's not Ellen."

I lifted my head a bit. So this was no random break in. They knew my name. But I didn't know them, didn't recognize the voice. Still, my finger was laying lightly on the trigger, gun pointed at the door to the bar room. Silently I moved to the side of the door and squeezed my back against the wall, waiting.

"Yeah," the second voice replied. I didn't recognize this one either. Two sets of footsteps moved around, one clearly approaching my back room. The door was opened, effectively hiding me from whoever came in. The tall frame of a young man entered, looking around.

"Oh god, please let that be a rifle," voice number two said, a hint of cockiness in it. Good girl, Jo. Keep him there. The man in my back room turned at those words and found himself staring right into the barrel of my gun. I put my index finger to my lips to keep the boy quiet. Yes, boy. He was tall, real tall. But still only a boy.

"No, I'm just real happy to see you. Don't move." Jo had this covered.

"Not moving, copy that," the voice repeated in a tone that made me want to warn Jo to be careful.

"You know, you should know something, Miss. When you put a rifle on someone, you don't want to put it right against their back. Because it makes it real easy to do..."

I heard a quick shuffle and I wasn't sure if Jo gasped. Then the rifle was being unloaded.

"... that."

Now the voice sounded rather pleased. And the tone was eerily familiar, like I should know him. The hint of a smile flickered across the face of my tall captive and I motioned for him to raise his hands behind his head. The smile on his face faded when we heard a punch and a muffled, pained moan followed by a shout.

"Sam! Need some help in here."

Now it was my turn to smile. The man in the bar with Jo muttered something I couldn't make out and I nodded towards the door, my dangerous face back in place. My tall intruder - Sam - took the hint and walked into the bar room. Sam... I didn't know a Sam, but I got yet another sense of déjà vu.

"Sorry, Dean, I can't right now. I'm a... little tied up," Sam said apologetically. I imagine his partner in crime had a confused expression on his face because Sam nodded at me as I stepped out into the open, my gun pointed at Sam.

So the other one was called Dean. Sam? Dean? This Dean looked familiar and yet at the same time I was sure I'd never met him. I glanced at Jo. Jo? John? John!

"Sam?" I asked. Sam's eyes widened.

"Dean?" Dean's eyes followed suit.

"Winchester?" They looked at each other, bewildered.

"Yeah."

Everything clicked into place. John Winchester's boys. No wonder. I slowly lowered my weapon.

"Son of a bitch."


	5. Lazarus Rising

**AN: Next up, a part I wanted to do for a while already. Bobby's feelings when Dean is back in "Lazarus Rising", season 4. Thanks to everybody reading and reviewing, especially to NerdAngel at this point! Made my day! Just add salt ;)**

 *****sn*****

 **Bobby POV**

The last months had been difficult. Dean was gone. I still can't believe we didn't find a way out of that stupid deal. Then Sam just took off. Didn't say where to. Didn't answer calls. I know it wasn't easy for him, but he didn't have to act like the idjit he was, now, did he?

And then this morning, there was this prank call. Some idjit hunter no doubt who thought he'd be original and give old Bobby a hard time, claiming to be Dean. Dean was gone. Dead. Buried. GONE!

The worst was, he had really sounded like him. Screw modern day technology, voice imitation and what not. But it had opened a wound in me that had just stopped bleeding. I loved Dean like a son.

A knock on my door got my attention. Who would that be? I hadn't even heard a car pulling up. One glance tells me all my defense stuff was right where they should be, just in case. I walk up to open the door... and freeze.

A thousand and one thoughts run through my head as my jaw falls to the ground. Never in all my life had I expected to see HIM standing there. It just couldn't be!

"Surprise," he says cautiously, cracking an uncertain smile.

"I, I don't..."

When did I start to stutter? Get a grip, Bobby!

"Yeah, me neither," Dean says, stepping over the threshold. Wait. Not Dean. It couldn't be Dean. He's dead, for crying out loud. "But here I am."

No, you're not. Shapeshifter, maybe. Revenant. Demon. Ghoul. But not Dean! I slowly back up, hand fumbling for the hidden silver knife. He steps closer and I attack, brandishing the knife, slashing away at him. He grabs my arm and twists it, forcing me to react and land a backhand blow to his head.

"Bobby! It's me!" He stumbles backwards.

"My ass," I snarl as he pulls a chair in between us to hold me off, and lifts his hands.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait! Your name is Robert Steven Singer. You became a hunter after your wife got possessed, and... you're about the closest thing I have to a father. Bobby. It's me."

No. Please, don't do that to me. Don't fucking tease me! I drop my knife a bit, my body fighting my mind about what to believe. I reach out to him; put my hand on his shoulder. I need to feel he's real, no ghost. He feels real. But... it simply can't be! I was there when Sam buried him. The idjit refused to salt and burn Dean's bones just in case...

I mustn't let my wish for Dean to be real become my downfall. Gripping the knife tighter I swing the blade at him again. But I miss. And he's strong. Stronger than any dead body should be expected to be. Then the knife is gone. Balls! And I'm being pinned by whatever it is.

"I'm not a shapeshifter!" A trace of desperation in his voice reaches my subconscious.

"Then you're a revenant!"

He pushes me away, holding up my knife.

"Alright. If I was either, could I do this – with a silver knife?" He rolls up his left sleeve and I watch, involuntarily holding my breath. Slowly he pulls the blade across his arm above the elbow and crimson blood starts welling up from the cut. It can't be!

"Dean?" Oh please, is it true?

"That's what I've been trying to tell you."

Oh sweet Jesus it's really him! I dunno how it's even possible, but it is. Two quick steps, and I'm hugging that boy like my life depends on it. He feels real, solid, and most importantly, alive. He's hugging me right back with all his might. Then I break the hug. I need to see him.

"It's... It's good to see you, boy," I choke out.

"Yeah, you too." He's smiling that big smile of his, that doesn't only melt the hearts of many a girl.

"But... how did you bust out?" It was still too good to be true. He looks sideways, shrugging. I put my hands in my pocket and take the small bottle I keep there.

"I don't know. I just, uh, I just woke up in a pine box..." Dean stops mid sentence as I splash the contents of the bottle right in his face. Last test. No sizzling. It IS him! Dean looks at me indignantly and spits out some of the holy water.

"I'm not a demon either, you know." He actually sounds a tiny bit annoyed.

"Sorry," I grin apologetically. "Can't be too careful."


	6. Born under a bad sign

**Next up... "Born under a bad sign". Dean's POV while possessed Sam holds Jo captive. Just add salt ;)**

 *****sn*****

 **Dean POV**

I arrive at the address that the GPS on Sam's phone had revealed. It's dark and this place somewhat reminds me of the Roadhouse; a bar somewhat adrift from the city hustle. But unlike the Roadhouse it is bordering a dock. It's probably the get together of the people working at the dock. At this time of day it was desolate however. Who or what was Sam trying to find here? If it was Sam at all. I was starting to have my doubts. His actions, the memory loss, the way he pleaded with me to put him down...

Sam knows very well that I would rather kill myself than harm a hair on his body. He would have known I would decline his request. He wouldn't have asked but rather found another way. And then the son of a bitch knocked me out. In cold blood. That just couldn't be Sam. I had to find him so I could find a way to help him.

Dim light is shining through a window of the bar. Maybe someone's still there and has seen Sam. Or maybe he's there himself. But he won't be alone. As I step closer I hear voices. Carefully I try the door. It's locked alright. I pull out my knife and try unlocking it.

"You're lying," a tearful female voice gasps. I know this voice.

"I'm not. It's true." Sam. That's Sam. I resume my efforts to unlock the door while Sam continues in a sing song that's so unlike him. "My daddy shot your daddy in the head." I freeze.

"How could you know that?" Jo! It's Jo's voice.

"I hear things," Sam's voice quickly replies in a very unlike Sam tone. A cold shiver runs down my spine. Come on, Dean. Get that frigging door open. I hear a thump.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Jo asks, pleadingly. Hold on, Jo. I'll figure this out. I'll get you out. Safe and sound. I promise.

"Like Daddy like daughter. You're bait. Open up." Oh shit, Sam. What are you doing? I get up and repocket the knife. The time for stealth has gone. I take a step back and brace myself to break down the door.

"That's a girl," Sam drawls and I unleash my power into the door that bursts open.

"Sam!" I shout to get his attention. For a split second Sam was wearing a smug look on him. Then he pulls a knife from the pillar he's tied Jo to and holds it to her throat. His whole demeanor had changed.

"I begged you to stop me, Dean," he shouts, now sounding desperate and panicked. Yeah you did, but I can't. And you know that.

"Put the knife down, dammit." I can't believe this is my little brother.

"I told you I can't fight it! My head feels like it's on fire, all right?! Dean. Kill me, or I'm going to kill her. Please. You'd be doing me a favor! Shoot me." He spreads out his arms and all I can do is stare. "Shoot me!"

I glance over at Jo, see the fear in her eyes that she's trying to hide but can't. I look back at Sam, lowering the gun. He's acting like a man possessed. What if he is possessed? It would all make sense. But I had to be sure.

"No, come on, Sammy," I say and turn away so he doesn't see me pulling out my bottle with holy water.

"What the hell's wrong with you, Dean? Are you that scared of being alone that you'd rather let Jo die?" I can hear whatever is possessing Sam trying to draw me out but I won't give in. I won't give up. Not with Jo's and Sammy's lives at stake. I turn around, splashing the contents of the uncapped bottle onto Sam. Sure enough smoke starts rising from sizzling skin and he roars in pain.

"That's holy water, you demonic son of a bitch!" I yell at the demon possessing my brother. It looks up, a snarl on its face, eyes pitch black. Before the demon can attack I fling more holy water at it and it runs towards the window and jumps right through the frame.

Quickly, I grab my knife again and go over to Jo, cutting her free. Then I turn to go after Sam. Jo pulls off the gag.

"He was possessed?"

I turn to look at her. What can I say? I didn't know. I should have known. I have to stop the demon. I have to save my brother. Turning, I leap through the window to take pursuit. As I start running I hear Jo's desperate shout.

"Dean!"

Sorry, babe, not now. Later. I promise.


	7. Swan Song

**AN: A big THANK YOU for all the reviews! You guys make my day! This snippet is from "Swan Song" and it's kinda sad. I hope you will still like it. Just add salt ;)**

 *****sn*****

 **Lisa POV**

I glance at my watch. It's late. It's already dark outside for a while. Ben is in his bed, sleeping. I really should sleep, too. I pick up the remote and switch off the TV. Then I take my empty beer glass to the kitchen sink and rinse it. I flick off the light and walk towards the stairs.

A knock on my door makes me halt in mid-step. Who would come by at this time of day? Or night, rather. I take the step into the hallway and look at the little glass part of the front door. My heart skips a beat, but I'm not sure if it's a good or bad thing. Dean Winchester is standing outside and part of me wants to run and rip open the door and jump into his arms. But there's something in the way he's looking around that tells me he's not here to catch up on old times. Something terrible must have happened.

My fingers close around the door knob and I open up. Dean puts up a brave face. I am not sure I want to know what on Earth happened to make this man crumble.

"Hey, Lisa," he rasps. I stare at him, hearing the tears in his voice he's desperately trying to hide. At least he doesn't look hurt in a physical way.

"Oh, thank God. Are you alright?"

I'm not sure why I asked that. It's obvious he is anything but alright. His bottom lip is trembling slightly. He's trying to look past me, trying to make sure the tough man he is doesn't lose it on a girl's door step. Finally his eyes meet mine again.

"Yeah," he manages to squeeze out. "Uh, if it's not too late, I... think I'd like to take you up on that beer."

Oh, Dean. I hope I can help you. I hope you will let me help you. I'm so glad you chose to come to me. We will find a way to bring that gorgeous smile back on your face. And more importantly, back in your beautiful green eyes.

"It's never too late." I mean it. Dean takes the step and lets me pull him into a hug. I hold him tight, sensing his need to feel an anchor. I might not be the best person to ground him, but tonight he chose to come to my door, and who am I to refuse him?

He buries his head on my shoulder and I can feel his whole body trembling. Dean had been there when I needed him. He saved my son. He saved Ben even when I told him he wasn't his. It's what he did, saving people. I knew that and I was grateful. For once it was him that needed saving. Who was I to deny him, to refuse him.

Something told me he was only used to giving. He would give his life to save innocent people. Now was the time for him to take. Take comfort in a hug, in a hand rubbing his back, pulling his head closer, stroking his hair. I can feel him take a deep breath and I hold him even tighter, somehow feeling the need to rock him like I used to rock Ben when he was upset or scared.

"Shh. It's okay. It's gonna be okay."


	8. Jus in bello 1

**Again, a big THANK YOU for all those great reviews. It's a big motivation to keep going. Next up, it's Jus In Bello... Agent Henriksen gets his say. It will be in 2 parts, or chapters. This first one will be pre demon possession. The other one will be post demon possession. A big thank you again to _NerdAngel_ and _LilyBolt_ for their support and reviews, as well as to _mjf2468_ for reading and reviewing, and her willingness to put up with my rambling about sn.**

 **Just add salt ;)**

 *****sn*****

 **Agent Henriksen POV**

I am walking up to the cell holding the two biggest fish I've ever caught: Dean Winchester, creepy satanist killer and his side kick, little brother Sam. Dean looks at me. Dagger stares. But he doesn't seem too worried. He should be. I'll drive the snark right out of him. Sam just casts a glance over at me and then looks away. Definitely the side kick.

"You know what I'm trying to decide?" I try baiting a reaction. I sure get one.

"I don't know. What? Whether Cialis will help you with your little condition?" Snark... I should have known. Sam keeps quiet. He seems to be just acting when his brother tells him to.

"What to have for dinner tonight." Ah, that earns me another look from Sam. Good. "Steak or lobster, what the hell, surf and turf."

I glance at Dean, who sports a smirk, but I think it's not all genuine anymore. Even better. "I got a lot to celebrate. I mean, after all, seeing you two in chains…"

That gets the snark right back into the older Winchester brother. "You kinky son of a bitch. We don't swing that way." That man doesn't disappoint. He's been a worthy adversary, but his reign of terror is coming to an end. Still, he keeps fighting, even if it's just words.

"Now, that's funny," I reply nonchalantly.

"You know, I wouldn't bust out the melted butter just yet. Couldn't catch us at the bank, couldn't keep us in that jail," Dean plows on. Drat, yeah, don't remind me. One of my most embarrassing moments. But not this time. This time I'm ready. And I might just as well let them know I am.

"You're right. Screwed up. I underestimated you. I didn't count on you being that smart but now I'm ready." His eyes light up when I mention I underestimated him.

"Yeah, ready to lose us again?" Sarcasm at its finest. But, two can play that game.

"Ready like a court order to keep you in a Supermaximum prison in Nevada till trial. Ready like isolation in a soundproof, windowless cell, so that between you and me… probably unconstitutional."

Now that got their attention. I can see the subtle change of demeanor in both of them. Oh, how satisfying is that?

"How's that for ready?" I can't stop grinning.

The brothers stay silent. I'm almost disappointed. Time to put the last nail in their coffin.

"Take a good look at Sam – you two will never see each other again."

The brothers exchange worried looks. Yes, worried. Disconcerted even.

"Aw. Where's that smug smile, Dean? I want to see it." Yes, Dean, that's a challenge. He looks up and shakes his head in disbelief.

"You got the wrong guys," he says quietly.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. You fight monsters. Sorry, Dean. Truth is, your daddy brainwashed you with all that devil talk and no doubt touched you in a bad place. That's all. That's reality." Get it in your head, weirdo.

"Why don't you shut your mouth?"

I can hear Dean's patience is running out. Or is it just reality sinking in by him? He doesn't look like his snarky self anymore. Mission accomplished?

"Well, guess what. Life sucks. Get a helmet. 'Cause everybody's got a sob story. But not everybody becomes a killer."

A noise is filling the holding area. That must be the helicopter. Wonderful. Let's get this show on the road.

"And now I have two less to worry about." I grin and look at my watch. Gotta get a last jibe in. "Mm. It's surf and turf time." I tap my watch and leave the boys. This is the best day of my life.


	9. Jus in bello 2

**Okay, here's part 2 of "Jus in Bello" Agent Henriksen. Sorry, _emebalia_ , but Vic not surviving the episode is totally not my doing. Still chuffed you like this. Thanks to all reviewers and especially _NerdAngel_ for her help and opinion here. Part 2, post possession. Just add salt ;)**

 *****sn*****

 **Agent Henriksen POV**

It's dark. It's cold. Why is my face wet?

"Is he… is he dead?" Whoah... who's dead? That Nancy just said someone's dead. Me? If I'm dead I must have drowned. I open my eyes. Looks like the holding cell. Again, why is my face wet? I start coughing. Shit, must have swallowed water, too.

"Henriksen! Hey. Is that you in there?"

I groan and peel myself off the floor to sit on the cot. That sounded like one of the Winchesters. Wait a minute... Like a procession it all comes flooding back to me.

 _Deputy Director Groves arriving, the paperwork, the shot fired in the holding area, Groves dead on the floor, Dean Winchester shot in the shoulder._

 _Those lunatics blabbering of him being possessed. The dead officers outside and by the chopper. All communication cut out. Everybody going in panic mode. I recall my conversation with those crazy Winchester boys. Or rather Dean._

 _\- What's the plan? Kill everyone in the station, bust you two out?_

 _\- What the hell are you talking about?_

 _\- I'm talking about your psycho friends. I'm talking about a blood bath._

 _\- Okay, I promise you – whoever's out there? is not here to help us._

 _\- Look, you got to believe us. Everyone here is in terrible danger._

 _\- You think?_

 _\- Why don't you let us out of here so we can save your asses?_

 _\- From what? - You gonna say "demons"? Don't you dare say "demons". Let me tell you something. You should be a lot more scared of me._

And now it gets scary. I remember going to the next room, stopping in my tracks when I saw a black, smoky cloud heading straight at me. The moment I open my mouth to scream for backup, everything turns hazy. It was like I watched myself doing things, heard myself saying things, and I couldn't stop it.

I remember watching Sheriff Melvin heading to the holding cell, unlocking the Winchester's cell door. He wanted the two to get out, but they were reluctant, wary. I realized my body was getting ready to move without me being in control.

The argument between Melvin and _me. Me_ shooting Melvin. The boys jumping up, tangling with _me,_ wrestling _me_ into the cell, Sam pushing my head into the toilet. That's where I must have got wet. Sam starting a chant in Latin, _me_ shouting in return. And then... black.

I look up into the faces of Sam and Dean Winchester. It's all very confusing. What just happened?

"I… I shot the sheriff," I stutter. Leave it to Dean to counter with sarcasm.

"But you didn't shoot the deputy." Even his brother shot him an unbelieving glance that wiped his loopy grin right off his face. I'm still trying to get to grips with what just happened. I have no explanation whatsoever.

"Five minutes ago, I was fine, and then…" I trail off, not knowing how to continue. I don't have to. Dean takes right over from me.

"Let me guess. Some nasty black smoke jammed itself down your throat?"

How did he know? I look at him, still at a loss for words.

"You were possessed," his brother explains, drawing my attention to him.

"Possessed, like… possessed?" He's got to be kidding. Thing is, I don't think he is, not anymore.

"That's what it feels like. Now you know." Gee, thanks, Sam. That makes this a lot easier. Not.

"I owe the biggest _"I told you so"_ ever," Dean grins, holding out my gun to me as a peace offering. I take it from him. Somehow, all of a sudden, those crazy, lunatic satanists don't seem so crazy anymore. They seem like people who have seen things nobody else has seen, like they know what they're talking about. I get up.

"Officer Amici. Keys...," I say, holding out my hand. I unlock the brother's chains with my own hands. I think the only way to get out of here alive is to trust those men. They look at me, a last bit of apprehension in their eyes. I see them in a totally different light now, and I have to show them that my opinion has changed. That I am willing to follow their lead.

"All right, so how do we survive?"


	10. Home

**Thank you everyone for those awesome reviews. Please keep dropping ideas on me. This here is John, season 1, Home...**

 **Just add salt :)**

 *****sn*****

 **John POV**

I stare at my ringing phone, letting it go to voicemail. Even if I had wanted to take the call, seeing Dean's name on the screen always made me freeze up. I just can't talk to my boy right now. If I do, I won't be able to continue my mission. He must be feeling abandoned and I'm really sorry for causing him this pain, but ultimately it's about saving him. Him and Sam, too.

The ringing has stopped, but the flashing of the light in the corner tells me Dean is leaving a message. I sigh. My insides are screaming at me to still take the call, but my head tells me I won't be able to cope. The flashing stops and I keep staring at the phone.

It can't have been more that five minutes, but it feels like an hour to me, before I move again. I lift my gaze up from the _one missed call_ notification and walk across the room to sit on the edge of the bed. Like all motel room beds it was crappy, but after all these years it didn't matter anymore. I was used to it. Dean was used to it.

Dean. You have no idea how often I've wished I could turn back time to prevent your mother from dying, to prevent you and your brother from being raised on the road. Nothing I can do about it now, but I can at least make sure it was worth it by killing that cursed demon son of a bitch who kick started my personal apocalypse.

Get a grip, John. You can't change it. But you can finish it.

I lower my gaze back to the phone again. The notification stares me in the face, almost accusingly. I sigh and will my finger to move and unlock the screen. A moment later I lift the phone to my ear and listen to Dean's voice.

 _Dad? I know I've left you messages before. I don't even know if you'll get 'em._

He clears his throat.

 _But I'm with Sam. And we're in Lawrence. And there's somethin' in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not, but…._

Dean pauses and I get the feeling he's trying hard to keep it together. He's with Sam. I can hardly believe it.

… _I don't know what to do. So, whatever you're doin', if you could get here. Please. I need your help, Dad._

I sit there in stunned silence. Dean is with Sam. They're in Lawrence. In our old house. On a case. It can't be the yellow eyed demon because I've been tracking that sucker way over here. But Dean doesn't know that. Still, if there's something in our old home... could it be? Could it be Mary?

I listen to Dean's message again and my mind is made up. I can't let the boys know I'm coming. Hell, they won't even know I'm there. But I can be close just in case.

I pick up my phone again and activate the contacts list. Scrolling down to M, I hit the green button. After just one ring she picks up.

"When will you be here, John? Your boys need you."

"And I need to know they're alright. I'll be there, soon, Missouri."


	11. The song remains the same

**AN: Again, a heartfelt thank you for the great reviews. NerdAngel and LilyBolt... you made my day! This here is from "The Song Remains The Same". Enjoy, and remember... just add salt ;)**

 *****sn*****

 **Mary POV**

I'm busy pouring out oil. Holy oil. Which is something I hadn't known existed before today. Then again I also had no idea angels existed. Every time this - admittedly - handsome yet strange hunter named Dean shows up, weird things happen. Hearing a noise, I look up. Speak of the devil, Dean is here. And he owes me an explanation.

"Okay. You said you'd explain everything when we had a minute. We have a minute. Why does an angel want me dead?"

Dean scoffs and looks around the room, trying to find something else to settle on than me. Finally he looks at me.

"'Cause they're dicks."

I can't help myself but laugh at this blatantly obvious attempt to get out of a real answer. Not with me, buddy. I might be a girl, but I sure am no push over. Try harder, Dean.

"Not good enough. I didn't even know they existed, and now I'm a target?"

Dean fidgets around and I can't shake the feeling he's hiding a majorly important piece of information. But why? We're hunters. Why does he come here to save me and John from a celestial being I didn't even know existed and then he withholds vital information. It didn't make sense and didn't really improve my trust in the boy.

"It's complicated."

Oh, is that so? I wouldn't have guessed. For all the inexplicable attraction towards Dean, which was of a completely different nature than my attraction to John, more like a feeling of relatedness, he honestly started to frustrate me.

"Fine." I get up in a challenging manner and glare at him provocatively. "All ears."

Dean looks at me and sighs, fidgeting uncomfortably. I don't get him. I don't get his dilemma, because he obviously is experiencing an inner conflict about this matter. Not a good way to reassure me.

"You're just gonna have to trust me, okay?" It sounds like a plea, but I'm not in the mood anymore. Good looks or not, trust isn't issued on that. I finally want to know what game we're playing. My frustration creeps into my voice.

"I've been trusting you all day." My gaze dares him to cough it up.

"It's kind of hard to believe."

Oh this man is infuriating. All his vexed puppy eyes look be screwed. I'm done. I won't fall for this crap. He can fight his stupid angels alone for all I care.

"All right, then. I'm walking out the door." I turn on my heels with the full intention to go through with my threat, but what he says next makes my world freeze solid.

"I'm your son."

He's gotta be kidding! There's no way in... hell? How would that be possible? If this is a joke, he'll regret the day he was born when I'm done with him.

"What?"

"I'm your son. Sorry. I don't know how else to say it. We're from the year two thousand and ten. An angel zapped us back here. Not the one that attacked you, friendlier."

I start shaking my head in disbelief. It can't be. It's too fantastic. He has to be joking!

"You can't expect me to believe that."

His gaze bores into mine and in that moment I know he's anything but joking.

"Our names are Dean and Sam Winchester. We're named after your parents. When I would get sick, you would make me tomato-rice soup, because that's what your mom made you. And instead of a lullaby, you would sing "Hey Jude", 'cause that's your favorite Beatles song."

How... how does he know that unless he speaks the truth? I can feel a tear running down my cheek, hot, wet.

"I...I don't believe it. No."

His reply is soft, sympathetic, loving even.

"I'm sorry, but it's true."

Yes, I get that now, but it still blows my mind. I look at him and see a man that is so right and yet so wrong. A great young man, anything a mother could ask for... and a hunter. A HUNTER! I can't believe I raised my kids into the life I never wanted, that I tried to escape from. Did I really? I have to know.

"I raised my kids to be hunters?"

Dean looks like a deer in the headlights for a brief moment. His words almost trip over another when he hastens to explain.

"No. No, you didn't."

I didn't? Don't tell me that, Dean. You're a hunter. Sam is a hunter. John has no idea what a hunter is, so who if not I raised you to be a hunter? Don't try to protect me, Dean.

"How could I do that to you?"

He takes a deep breath, the pain in his green eyes reaching another level. When he replies, his voice is barely more than a whisper.

"You didn't do it. Because you're dead."


	12. The purge

**AN: short... The purge - ending**

 **Just add salt ;)**

 *****sn*****

 **Dean POV**

I'm pouring myself another Scotch. The bunker is home. A home I, _we_ never had in this form. So, against my better judgement I conceded to Sam's wishes tonight. One way ticket to Peru instead of monster ganking. Don't make me regret this, Sammy. But I had to show him I can co-operate, 'cause little brother is still mad at me. Can't blame him too much, though. Still, he would have done the same.

Soft footsteps make me look up. Ah, gigantor in the doorway, no surprise there. He looks weary.

"I'm hitting it."

Oh, he's talking to me unrelated to work. That's good.

"Yeah." Maybe this is the moment I should seize to talk to him about my motivation because so far there hadn't been an opportunity to talk to my grudge holding baby brother. "Hey."

"Yeah?" Sam was in the process of turning around, but he stops and looks at me.

"About what you said the other day." I stop when I see his face, which screamed _I knew it_ at me. Sorry, Sammy, as much as you hate to talk about it, it needs to be done. You need to understand why I did what I did. Why I had to do it. So we can be brothers again.

"I thought it didn't bother you."

Newsflash, Sam. It does. I had to save my little brother. Don't you understand? I need you to understand. We're a team. I told you once before, there's no me if there is no you.

"You know, Sam, I saved your hide back there. And I saved your hide at that church... And the hospital. I may not think things all the way through. Okay? But what I do, I do because it's the right thing. I'd do it again."

Sam is still standing in the doorway, ready to bolt. But he doesn't.

"And that... is the problem. You think you're my savior, my brother, the hero. You swoop in, and even when you mess up, you think what you're doing is worth it because you've convinced yourself you're doing more good than bad... But you're not."

Are you for real? I can't help but stare at my brother, incredulous. I can't even come up with a reply, it blows my mind so much. Then he plows on.

"I mean, Kevin's dead, Crowley's in the wind. We're no closer to beating this angel thing. Please tell me, what is the upside of me being alive?"

He can't be serious. I don't shock easily, but Sam just managed to make my blood run cold. What is happening here? What happened to him? To me? To us? He's gotta be joking!

"You kidding me? You and me - fighting the good fight together."

Sam sighs, frustration obvious in his face, like I'm an annoying little kid that keeps pestering him. I knew it, he's bolting. His back is turned to me, but then he changes his mind and comes down the steps to sit opposite of me. I lean back slightly, not sure if I want Sam in that mind-frame right in my face.

"Okay. Just once, be honest with me. You didn't save me for me. You did it for you."

I did it for me? What's that supposed to mean? I saved HIS freaking life!

"What are you talkin' about?" My confusion must be evident, even to Sam. Good. Then maybe he'll care to translate his gibberish.

"I was ready to die. I was ready. I should have died, but you... You didn't want to be alone, and that's what all this boils down to. You can't stand the thought of being alone."

Wow. That does it. He's gone mad. I get up, because I'm not sure I can sit with him without wanting to be all up in his face just for him to stab me in the back. 'Cause that's how it feels right now. I've been watching out for him all my life. Saving Sam is number one on my agenda. He's always come first. Always! And now he's using it against me. I just can't wrap my mind around this.

"All right," is all that my stunned brain is able to come up with. But Sam isn't done, yet.

"I'll give you this much. You are certainly willing to do the sacrificing as long as you're not the one being hurt."

This is ridiculous.

"All right, you want to be honest? If the situation were reversed and I was dying, you'd do the same thing." I'm looking straight at him, but he doesn't meet my eyes. Sammy?

"No, Dean. I wouldn't." His voice is soft, but he may as well have used a bullhorn to scream it in my ears. He's gone mad. Only he looks dead serious. "Same circumstances...I wouldn't."

His eyes meet mine in a fleeting look. I feel like someone has just pulled the ground out from under my feet. I'm falling, only the anchor I always counted on keeping me safe has come loose. He wouldn't have tried to save me. Like he didn't come looking for me while I was in purgatory. What have I done to deserve this? Tell me, Sammy. Where did I go wrong? He looks up to me, offering no explanation. Then he drags himself up from the table, ready to leave.

"I'm gonna get to bed."

Low blow, Sam. Those words, not said in heated anger but in cold blood, just make Alistair's tortures in hell pale in comparison to the pain I'm feeling now.

Okay, suck it up, Dean. If that's the way Sam sees it, let him go to hell next time. Only, I know, I'll give my life to save his... again. Keeping him safe is my life, whether he likes it or not.


	13. Live free or twihard

**AN: A big thank you to all reviewers and readers. You guys make my day! Now up, "Live Free And Twihard", Season 6**

 **Just add salt ;)**

 *****sn*****

 **(Soulless) Sam POV**

So we're hunting a vampire. Or vampires. Hunting is the only thing after I escaped the cage that makes me feel alive. Dean and I had split, but now I'm trying to find him to reconnoiter. As I reach the edge of an alley I hear noises. Fighting noises.

I step around the corner and see some curly head guy trying to alter my brother's dental records. My first instinct is to rush to help Dean and I run a few steps. As sudden as the instinct flamed up it disappeared again. Why help him? Sure, he's my brother and brother's are supposed to look out for each other, but somehow seeing Dean all dazed by the blows that guy is laying in on him doesn't affect me any more than seeing a leaf being plucked off a tree.

I watch the fight with an interest that Dean would call fascination. It's a very one sided fight. More like a beating with my brother on the receiving end. The guy now pins Dean against the dumpster, using his right arm across Dean's throat to keep him in place. Looks like that guy's arm is the only thing keeping Dean from sliding to the ground. He got whacked good.

I see the guy bringing his left wrist to his face, but his back is to me and I can only guess what he's doing. A thought enters my mind. What if that guy is a vampire? It would explain how he had the strength to beat Dean semiconscious without my brother fighting back. I wonder what the vampire will do now. No, I don't wonder. I know. And I'm aware Dean knows, too.

My body twitches because I realize I should do something to stop this, to prevent the vamp from turning Dean into one of them. But I just stand there. It's like I'm watching a thriller on TV waiting for the suspense to culminate. Dean's eyes are half lidded but I can see panic in them. Panic? What's that?

Seeing Dean helpless is really fascinating. I can hear him struggle weakly, grunting even. The vampire guy gets his bloody wrist over to Dean's mouth, ready to feed him, to turn him. I can see Dean's eyes flicker towards me. He knows I'm there, watching. But he is powerless, incapable of moving or defending himself.

Something tells me I should intervene and save my brother. But if I let Dean get turned it will be just about what we need. A man to get on the inside. A double agent. It's a good thing Samuel knows a cure to vampirism, because I am unable to stop the vamp now, even if I wanted to.

Alright, that came out wrong. I know Dean has no clue about a cure. I know I didn't before I hooked up with Samuel. The vamp is smearing blood all over Dean's face. Good. But get it over with now so I can... save Dean? Not really. The emotions on Dean's dazed face? He's scared. Beyond scared. Terrified, I think. And somehow his fear makes me smirk. The vamp now had enough time to turn my brother. I draw out my machete and shout at the monster.

"NO!"

The vamp releases Dean as I rush towards them and Dean drops to the ground unceremoniously. I halt as the vamp turns towards me and for a moment we just stare at each other. I see his fangs reflecting in the moonlight and I slash my machete halfheartedly at him. He evades the slashes easily and then, with a little wave, the vampire runs and escapes up the buildings wall like a monkey. I lower my gaze to my brother on the ground. He's breathing heavily through his blood covered mouth.

"Sammy...," he exhales. It's hardly more than a whisper. I know he'd expect me to be concerned, freaked even. So I act the part. I hope it's convincingly. But it's not easy to do something you don't feel but know you should feel.

Back in the motel room I draw the curtains. I had called Samuel on the way here. But I only told him we need help. Dean is squinting. I know vampires are sensitive to light and my brother is a vamp now. He's holding his head like it's killing him. Maybe it is. Do I care? No. Should I care? Probably. That's why I drew the curtains even though honestly, I really couldn't be bothered.

"Oh my God, what is that SOUND?"

"What sound, Dean?" I hear nothing more than muffled street noise. I guess it must be amplified a zillion times for him. He tips over a lamp and even goes to knock on the wall to the neighboring room.

"Hey, c'mon, keep it down, dammit!"

As he turns he briefly glances at the light fixture on the ceiling before averting his eyes.

"Please, PLEASE shut that off... geez..."

I comply because I know it will take away a bit of the stress Dean's feeling. Turning vamp must be feeling weird. Maybe I should show concern.

"Dean... you should sit down..."

"YOU sit down," he replies but then sits on the edge of a bed, cradling his head in his hands. "Of all the ways to die, I never thought I'd be going out like this." Dying? He's not dying. He's just turning. No big deal. It's reversible. I think.

"Dean, nobody is 'going out'." How's that for reassuring him? Dean can't really calm down and gets up again.

"It's THAT..."

"What?" I ask.

Dean roughly rips the clock's cord out of the wall and then faces me, eyes wild even in the dark.

"Samuel is gonna kill me when he gets here."

"No, Dean, he's not." He knows a cure. I'm sure. At least I think I am. He mentioned it once.

"Yes he is, 'cause I'm gonna ask him to because you won't do it." Dean sounds desperate, but his desperation doesn't reach me. I know it should, so I get into my act again.

"Okay, just hold on a second..."

"For what, huh? Look at me!" Dean is pacing around like a caged cougar. His pacing affects my thinking. I got to think in order to know how to react the way I should. Calm down a bit, will you?

"We can figure this out." Once we are done here. Once you did what you can do now, being a vamp and all.

"How?!"

I can't tell you that, Dean. I can't tell you about the cure. You would think I let you get turned on purpose. Which I did. But you don't have to know. I see Dean picks up on something, because his eyes on me change expression.

"Why aren't you freaked out?"

Oh damnit. Enhanced senses. Screw it. Think, Sam. Think fast.

"Of course I am." Brilliant. Not. I know. He knows.

"Really? 'Cause I can hear your heartbeat, and it's pretty damned steady."

See... freaking enhanced senses.

"That's 'cause I'm... I'm TRYING to remain calm. Dean, look - Samuel will know what to do."

Here now, that should calm him down, get him off me.

"C'mon, man, I'm a monster, okay? This is NOT a problem that you spit-ball. We gotta deal with this before I hurt somebody."

I don't know what to reply. I should reply something to reassure Dean. He holds his head again, groaning. He must be in agony. I mean, senses changing, fangs growing. My curiosity is peaked.

"How's it feel?"

"NOW? Now you wanna talk about my feelings?" He's pissed. On top of undergoing the change he's pissed.

"No, I mean... physically."

"How do you THINK it feels? Not good!" Whatever that means. That doesn't do anything to satisfy my curiosity. Or whatever it is. Dean turns and strides towards the bathroom in big steps.

"Where you goin'?" Smooth question.

"Bathroom, okay?" Yeah. I know. I see. Why? "News flash, Mr. Wizard: vampires pee!"


	14. Citizen Fang

**AN: Here's my attempt at Benny's thoughts in "Citizen Fang". A big thanks to all readers and reviewers. Remember, you can drop me suggestions. Now enjoy... just add salt ;)**

 *****sn*****

 **Benny POV**

I'm standing outside the building with Dean, watching him pocket a syringe of dead man's blood amongst other things. A slight tremor runs down my back. Dead man's blood. Not a nice experience for a vampire.

We enter the building together, Dean shining his flashlight to see in the dark, a feature I don't need. In fact the beam is a little distracting for me. I let Dean chose a direction and decide to check out the other side, not only to get away from the flashlight. Desmond may be a rogue vampire, but he isn't dumb.

I can hear movement without being able to pick out exactly where it's from. I just know it's not Dean who causes it. Hiding in the shadows I try to find a spot that makes me able to watch Dean.

Another noise makes me lift up my head to strain my eyes and ears more. Silent footsteps are met with heavier ones, accompanied by the distinct swish a large blade makes when cutting the air at speed. Desmond found Dean and Dean was using his machete.

Quickly I backtracked my steps, realizing that the path I chose will get me nowhere. Dean is a good hunter but Desmond is determined. A crash from a heavy body hitting the ground speeds me up. Dean!

Muffled voices reach my ears. Desmond is talking.

"Benny never told me he was bringing a friend."

"You're not gonna talk a lot, are you?" Dean's voice is strained, like he's struggling. "I've been dealing with crazy... all day."

I'm not entirely sure how he means that but I suppose he's referring to his brother and that Martin guy. I quicken my steps and the noises of the struggle are getting louder. I hear Dean groan, not sure if it's being caused by pain or frustration.

Finally I see the struggling men. Desmond is straddling Dean, the syringe Dean carried is on the floor... in pieces. I ready myself to act but I'm not fast enough to prevent Desmond from lashing out at Dean, drawing blood. I can't see the wound but I immediately catch the smell of human blood. Dean's blood.

Desmond licks at his blood covered fingers and a snarl escapes from the depth of his chest. I clutch my machete tightly in one hand, grabbing Desmond with the other just as he is starting to lunge at Dean's exposed neck.

A sharp tug pulls Desmond upright and before this vampire puppy knows what has hit him, I swing my machete, severing his head from his torso. His head tumbles down and Dean rolls himself to the side to avoid being hit by it.

"Son of a... It took you long enough." He's breathing heavily and I can clearly hear his annoyance. Yeah well, brother, I'm not the only one here who wasn't top speed.

"You've lost a step, friend," I reply and offer him my hand. Dean takes it and I pull him upright. "You need to lay off the junk food."

I expect my friend to glare at me or give a witty retort, but he just reaches for his neck and hisses.

"Aah!"

Oh no, why did I look? I see Dean's blood and immediately feel the monster waking up inside. My senses sharpen, Dean's heartbeat grows louder and louder in my ears, summoning me along with the delicious smell of his blood.

As much as I want to avert my eyes, I can't help but stare at the cut. A tremor runs through my body again and I have to use all my willpower not to give in to the calling. I squint my eyes in concentration and I know that my lips are quivering with the effort of resisting a taste of Dean's crimson life juice.

My friend picks up on my internal struggle and for a split second I'm sure I see a hint of fear flickering in his eyes. He covers it quickly, replacing it with concern for a friend. I know that's what I am to him. A friend. Maybe even a brother. That's what he is to me.

"You okay?"

Yeah, definitely concern, and alertness. I raise my gaze to meet his, to reassure him that I am not about to turn bloodsucker on him and drain him.

"I'm fine."


	15. Reichenbach

**AN: So sorry for the long wait. Just couldn't find the next scene that jumped me. Now it did. Thanks to everyone who reads, and especially to NerdAngel for the help!**

 **Season 10, Reichenbach. Just add salt!**

 *****sn*****

 **Crowley POV**

I'm sitting at the bar, wondering if I've made a mistake putting the latest Knight of Hell, Dean Winchester himself, on a crossroads' deal case. But then, what could go wrong? He's a bloody demon, black eyes and all, and then there's the Mark and the Blade. He sure doesn't behave much like Dean Winchester anymore, so why am I worrying? I'm the King of Hell, he's only a Knight. I hear the door opening and look up. Talk of the demon, there he is.

"Dean! How did it go?"

He walks right up to me, that smug smile tugging on his lips. I'm not sure I like that.

"Fine. Fine. Uh, he's dead, and you're right. I..., I feel amazing."

My mouth suddenly dries up.

"HE?"

Dear Lucifer, let him be joking!

"Uh, Lester."

He's not joking. What the HELL?

"The client? You killed the client?"

I hate the way my voice sounds and even more I hate that nonchalant expression that bloody green squirrel of a Knight of Hell is sporting. He shrugs.

"Does it matter? He was a douche. Now he's a dead douche."

Mr. Uppity himself. This is unbelievable. I can't even rely on my demons anymore. Then again, he's also a bloody Winchester, pain in the ass deluxe, but unfortunately quite useful. If only he weren't so volatile, so exasperating.

"Of course it matters! The deal was one dead wife for one soul. The wife's not dead, I don't get the soul. It's math."

He doesn't look interested at all. That idiot has no idea what the demon business is all about.

"Well, there you go."

He's actually turning his back on me. On ME!

"Hey! Don't turn your back on me!"

That's it, Dean. Listen to me. He turns back to me, his eyes cold. I almost expect them to flash black. Next thing I know I'm flying backwards, ending up sprawling on the floor. And the Winchester just chuckles coldly.

The two stoogy demons I brought along to the bar look like they are enjoying the way this wannabe Knight of Hell is treating me. Oh, I'll deal with them later, but I can't have them disrespect my position any longer.

"Is something funny?" I glare at them, daring them to laugh just once more. My fingers are itching to snip them into damnation. They sober up. At least some still fear me.

"No, Sir," the one says, looking elsewhere. I pick myself up, refraining from dusting myself off.

"Good." I glare at them once more before looking at Dean, who's still sporting that smug smile.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, whatever I want."

He isn't bothered alright. Struts around like he owns the place, like HE runs Hell. Oh, how much I want to wipe that smug smile off his face. But there is the tiny matter of the First Blade. He's got the Mark, he's got the Blade. For Hell's sake, that blade can end me. And that cursed Winchester just knows how to use it. Play it smart, Crowley.

"Really? Because I think you don't know what you want."

Dean just looks at me, raising an eyebrow, daring me to elaborate.

"Tell me, Dean. What are you? A demon?" I pause briefly. "If so, why isn't Lester's wife dead? Did you feel sorry for her? So maybe you're human. Except you have those pretty black peepers and you're working alongside me."

At least that's my plan. Why, oh why does that mark make you so hard to control?

"Why don't you do us all a great big favor and PICK A BLOODY SIDE?!"

Great, I let my anger color my voice. I hope Dean sees it for what it is. Anger. Not desperation. I can't afford to have Dean in his current state opposing me. I need him to pull on my end of the rope. But of course, he plays hard to get.

"Or what? Hmm? Go ahead. Make a move. See how it ends." He evenly holds my stare, and there's still that smugness on him, like he invented it. "I ain't your friggin' bestie, and I ain't taking orders from you. When I need to kill, I'll call. Until then, stay out of my way."

I may be desperate, but I ain't stupid. I know when I lost a battle. Luckily there's still a war to be won. And I will win it, with him, or without him.

"Fine. It's over. What can I say? Crazy ones...," I glance at my two stooges, hoping I convey I'm unfazed by this turn of events, "...well, they're good for a fling, but they're not relationship material."

I look into Dean's eyes with my last words, hoping he will choke on my sarcasm, but I don't see what I want to see.

"Are you done?"

Am I actually boring him? I have to get out of here. But it has to be on a high. I do have my pride, and no lowly, newly made, souped up Knight of Hell gone rogue is going to dent it.

"We're done. You know what, Dean? It's not me. It's you."

With that I turn, my stooges following me.

Bloody Winchesters!


	16. Into The Mystic

**AN: S11E11 Into The Mystic. I loved Mildred and the effect she had on Dean. Thanks to all readers and reviewers, you're amazing!**

 **Just add salt ;)**

 *****sn*****

 **Mildred POV**

I hate waiting. Especially when I don't really know what I'm waiting for. Yes, I do know it is a banshee those hunters need to kill, but till today they only existed in stories or tales for me.

But now here we are, waiting for that handsome agent to return with some kind of weapons to kill that banshee. Alright, I know the boys aren't agents but they're cute enough for the job. Yes, I know, they could be my kids, but just because I got more years under my belt doesn't mean I'm blind... or dead.

Finally the door opens and I hear the taller boy, Sam, talking to his brother. I shuffle over to get the gorgeous man with the heartbreaking smile.

"Agent! Oh, I'm glad you're back."

I walk right up to him and hold onto his arm, feel the strong muscles underneath the fabric. I see his bemused expression and smile. A girl can dream, right?

"Yeah," he replies.

"I feel safer already." I could swear his eyes widen slightly and my grin broadens. It's obvious he's no stranger to women hitting on him, but he looks almost shy at this old cougar's attempt. Such a cutie, good enough to eat. "Um...Come here. I want to show you something."

I take his hand into mine and guide him across the room. From the corner of my eyes I see Dean looking nervously over to his brother. I take a seat on the sofa while Dean continues to stand next to me. Unable to contain a chuckle I look at him and pat the empty space on my right.

"Well, come on and sit down. I'm not gonna bite. Never really was my thing." What I'm not saying out loud is that for him I'd think about changing that in a heartbeat. If I had come across such a sweet heart-throb of a man some thirty years ago, I'm sure my life would have panned out differently. Dean slowly walks around, gingerly occupying the space next to me.

"Okay," he rasps and I think he's unsure of whether to feel flattered or run for the hills. It's clear he's unfamiliar with the feeling of what I'm certain is the same feeling he evokes in women his age or younger. I mean, look at those eyes, those lips, those handsome features, oh, and that smile. And his voice is to die for. We're watching the sunset together and after a few quiet moments I feel compelled to fill the silence.

"I have the same view from upstairs. West-facing rooms, they cost extra. You know, you got to pay for the view."

A smile tugs on his lips. "It's not bad."

"Not bad?" He must be kidding. It's beautiful. "Honey, it's almost as gorgeous as you are."

"Ha," he laughs and I could swear he's slightly blushing. I can't help but chuckle at his reaction and the smile on his face. Observing his reactions is a real treat and I'm enjoying myself immensely. He's turning his head in the direction where his brother is, clearly looking for an escape.

"You know, tell me something. When's the last time you watched a sunset without waiting for something to go bump in the night?" There, that did it. His attention is back on me. He pauses a moment, then shakes his head and smirks. It's all the answer I'm getting but his reaction says more than words ever could.

"Hmm. You should try it sometime."

"Yeah," he replies. Did he just roll his eyes or am I imagining things? Then I get somewhat serious.

"I just hope this one isn't my last. I mean, does this stuff really work? A banshee shows up and... you cut your hand and slap it on one of those things, and it gets trapped. I mean, is this actually something that happens?"

"Yep." There is no hesitation in his reply. He reaches into the bag he brought with him and takes out two golden knives. Putting them down on the couch between us he looks at me.

"And then it gets one of these." I'm staring at the weapons, wondering. They can't be pure gold, that would not be hard enough to be durable. And they seem like they are in pristine condition. My nervousness must have shown. "Mildred," he pauses, looking straight at me. "Everything's gonna be fine."

"Okay," I say and I mean it. If he's so confident then I am, too.

"Tell me something," he says softly. "What did you do before you retired?"

I can't stop the laughter escaping me, memories rising in front of my inner eyes.

"I was in a Patsy Cline tribute band," I smile fondly.

"No," Dean sounds surprised, or maybe a bit astounded. I put on a stern face, at least I'm trying.

"I'm deadly serious."

The gorgeous man next to me chuckles warmly and I join in.

"You ever miss life on the road?"

"Nah. Nah, I had my fun." I really did. He looks down for a moment and I can't help but feel some kind of sadness oozing from him. "You want to know the secret to living a long and happy life?"

He looks up, genuine interest written all over his face. "Actually, yes, I do."

I stretch out my hand and pat Dean on the chest. On his very firm chest. He looks down at my hand briefly before lifting his gaze again.

"Follow your heart. You do that, all the rest just figures itself out. I did that. I followed my heart. Traveled the world, made people smile, forget about their problems for a while. And then my heart said, "Well, you're done". I had my fill and... And I retired," I pause. "And I love it."

I drop my hand to his knee, patting it briefly for emphasis. And, feeling bold, I just let my hand linger. He doesn't say a word, just stares ahead. Then he looks around.

"Hey, you know, this place isn't what I expected," he says approvingly.

"Oh, life here is great. I'd just like to enjoy it a little more. If I manage to survive this banshee tonight."

"And you will. I promise." There's no doubt in my mind that he means it. I catch his pause, as he's still looking at me. He swallows before he continues hesitantly. "Your... hand is still on my knee."

I smile as I drop my gaze to where my hand is touching his knee and I squeeze it affectionately. The little devil in my mind rides shotgun when I speak next.

"I could move it up."

Dean practically jumps up, pressing the words out as he does so. "Okay, that's... I'm gonna..."

We both burst out laughing. It's good to see him laughing and I'm not feeling one bit guilty for making him feel somewhat uncomfortable, because I can tell he likes me at least as much as I like him. He's adorable. And I think he knows it.


	17. Bad Day At Black Rock

**AN: TBT... sort of. From season 11 back to season 3. A big _THANK YOU_ to Nerd Angel for her ever brilliant reviews and to all readers and reviewers likewise! Just add salt ;)**

 *****sn*****

 **Dean POV**

I can't believe it. It simply boggles my mind how a tiny lucky rabbits foot that got lost can turn my Gigantor brother into such a clumsy clod from one second to the other. Earlier on he even tripped over his own freaking feet. Alright, I know it's not his fault, but it has a definite feel of kindergarten to me and I sure don't feel like babysitting my 6'4" brother. My hope is on Bobby, that he can come up with a solution to this whole mess before this bad luck turns fatal for Sammy. I just can't lose him again.

We exit the apartment block together and immediately my phone starts ringing. I pull it out and sidestep the pink bubblegum some girl must have spat on the ground. Only girls would chew pink stuff.

"Hello?" I don't check the caller ID, I figure it will be Bobby. Hopefully with helpful news. I sense Sammy behind me and hope he doesn't trip himself again.

"Dean, great news," Bobby's voice tells me. "Wasn't easy but I found a heavyweight cleansing ritual that should do the trick."

"Bobby, that's uh, great, 'cept Sam, uh...," I trail off as I look over at my baby brother, seeing him lift his shoe to look underneath. Don't tell me he stepped into that girly pink bubblegum. Involuntarily my face pulls into a grimace. "Sam lost the foot," I finish.

"He WHAT?" Bobby sounds horrified.

"Bobby," I try to explain. "Bobby, listen. This, uh, this hot chick stole it from him. I'm serious. In her mid 20's, and she was sharp you know, good enough at the con to play us."

Looking over my shoulder at Sam I see he is busy trying to scrape the bubblegum off his shoe on a broken storm drain grating. I return my attention to Bobby. Sam will be alright for a moment... I hope.

"And she only gave the guy she hired a name, probably an alias or something." I turn to Sam, drawing his attention. "Uh, Luigi or something?"

Sam is still scraping his shoe off on that drain. But he halts his wrestling with the gum to correct me.

"Lugosi."

"Lugosi," I repeat for Bobby.

"Lugosi?" Bobby's voice sounds puzzled. "Lugos... Aw crap, it's probably Bela."

You gotta be kidding me. Bela Lugosi? As in the Dracula actor? In my peripheral vision I see Sam still fumbling with the gum, the drain and his shoe. I hear a splash but I have no time to think about it. My brain is fixed on the Dracula chick.

"Bela Lugosi? That's cute," I tell Bobby.

"Bela Talbot's her real name," he informs me. "Crossed paths with her once or twice."

Honestly, I don't know what to make of that revelation. "Well she knew about the rabbit's foot. Is she a Hunter?"

"Pretty friggin' far from a Hunter, but she knows her way around the territory. She's been out of the country," Bobby replies and I can tell he's not pleased to hear about Bela. "Last I heard she was in the Middle East someplace," he growls.

"Ah, I guess she's back." Smooth deduction, Sherlock, I think to myself and grin. Sam is still busy with that gum, judging by his actions behind me. How hard can it be to get freaking bubblegum off your shoe?

"Which means seriously bad luck for you," Bobby continues gloomily.

"Great," I groan. Just what we need.

"But, if it is Bela, at least I might know some folks who know where to find her." Finally he says something positive.

"Thanks, Bobby. Again."

"Just... look out for your brother, ya idjit," Bobby ends before disconnecting the phone.

I push my phone back in my pocket and raise my gaze to Sam while turning to him. He's standing still, looking thoroughly dejected. That just can't be good.

"What?" I ask and I know that despite my best efforts to keep my irritation at bay it colors my words. Sam looks at me and speaks, sounding miserable.

"I lost my shoe."

I'm sure my jaw drops audibly and I look down at his sock-clad foot. Seriously, Sammy? I sigh in annoyance. Yes, I know, he can't help it. But still... I roll my eyes and just turn away so I wouldn't say anything bad. Still in my line of vision I see that Sasquatch is hanging his head. I take a deep breath and steel my nerves. I had a feeling I'd need to keep a good grip on my patience in order to get Sam, or us, actually, out of this mess.


	18. The Girl With The Dungeons And Dragons T

**Trying my hand at Charlie in The Girl With The Dungeons And Dragons Tattoo. A big THANKS to all readers and reviewers. Love ya, guys!**

 **Just... add salt ;)**

 *****sn*****

CHARLIE POV

As I'm riding up to the 11th floor in the elevator my nervousness spikes - again. What am I thinking? Those two ghostbuster wannabes must be crazy. Ah, Charlie, there are people thinking the same about you, haha. At least they're cute to look at - for guys. Okay, Charlie, focus.

The elevator stops and I get off. The moment I turn the corner, I see a problem. Code red, Dean. I have to abort mission. I flatten myself behind a wall the second I see the security guard. My heart is pumping in my chest. What am I thinking? I take a deep breath and close my eyes briefly. Contact alpha control.

"Hey, there's a big-ass guard up here, blocking the door. What do I do?" I'm sure Dean picks up on my panicky desperation.

" _Ju_ _st wait him out_ _,_ " his voice vibrates in my ear. Good thinking, big boy. I slowly edge myself to the glass door and peek through it. The security guard sits down and starts reading a magazine. Great. So much for waiting him out. Plan B, anyone?

"He's not going anywhere."

" _O_ _kay, uh, you work there every day. Do you know the guy?_ " I can virtually hear the gears in Dean's brain whirl and spin. Do I know the guy? Not like there's only ten people working here, ghost boy.

"I guess. I mean, I've seen him. I've never talked to him." Why would I?

" _O_ _kay, when you've seen him, does he look at you, or does he just kind of slide his eyes by?_ "

Seriously? I don't know. I don't care. Okay, think. I know I'm running out of time. The wheels in my head are spinning faster, matching the speed of my heartbeat.

"Um... eye contact? I don't know. He always kind of smiles a bit. I don't really..." Ah, crap. This is bad.

" _G_ _ood_ ," Dean sounds pleased. " _What you're gonna do is you're gonna walk right up to him, and you're gonna flirt your way past_."

I almost choke on my own spit. What did he say? Argh, Dean, if I were into guys I'd have hit on you so fast your head'd still be spinning.

"I can't. He's not my type." Please, get it. Don't make me spell it out.

" _Y_ _ou're gonna have to play through that_." I sigh. He is oblivious. Probably thinks every chick is into guys because he happens to possess a nice booty. And Sam, too. I roll my eyes. Calm down, Charlie. He's just a guy. He doesn't get it. Then again, he should. Whatever. Briefing.

"As in he's not a girl."

Silence. For a moment at least. Speechless much, ghost boy?

" _O_ _h, oh_." Ah, he gets the picture. Atta boy. " _Pretend he has boobs_."

Ugh. Really?

"Worse," I choke out.

" _W_ _ell, I don't know_ ," Dean presses on. I know, no time. Dang it. " _Um... Do you have any tattoos? Give him a little sneak peek there. All tattoos are sexy._ "

He must be kidding. Out of the frying pan... you get the picture.

"Mine is Princess Leia in a slave bikini straddling a 20-sided die." I can feel him stare. I bet most girls would love to see him speechless, but we're sort of in a predicament here. Tick tock. "I was drunk. It was Comic-Con." Come on, Dean, get it. Move on. I need a plan. Pronto.

" _W_ _e've all been there. Okay, I'm gonna walk you through this._ " Gee, thanks, ghost wizard. I take a deep breath and walk into the room with the security guard.

" _St_ _art with a smile._ " A smile. Okay, I can do that. I square my shoulders and paste on a large smile. Even a toddler would see it's fakeness and know I'm up to no good.

" _R_ _elax, Charlie. You just got home, and Scarlett Johansson's waiting for you._ "

Oh, now you're talking, Dean. I let the image materialize in front of my eyes and relax. It's showtime, baby. As I'm getting closer, the guard gets up, looking at me.

"Can I help you, miss?"

Deep breath. You can do it.

"Hey... Bill." Good thing he wears a name tag. I hold up my I.D. card. "Charlie from I.T."

"Oh. Burning the midnight oil, huh?" Oh please... is that what you men say to chat up a girl?

"Just like you – I mean, when you're not at the gym. What, do you work out with all your free time?" I don't wanna know, really. But he takes the bait.

"I try to get to the gym at least three days a week. Just trying to get back to my fighting weight, you know?"

Err, no I don't. Now what? Dean?

" _It_ _shows. You look amazing._ "

"It shows. You look amazing." I keep smiling. Just think Scarlett, Charlie. I can hear Dean talking quietly to Sam. " _This never happened_. " I grin broadly. Uncomfortable there? Good, then you know how I feel.

" _Do you ever do anything else with your free time, like take a girl out for a drink?_ "

Ah. Figures.

"You do anything else with your free time, like," Is that Sam giggling in the background? Great way to ease my nerves - not. "...take a girl out for a drink?"

" _S_ _top laughing, Sammy._ " Thank you, Dean. But my brain is on auto pilot... in repeat.

"Stop laughing, Sammy. Um...Y-you don't know that bar – Stop Laughing Sammy?" Oh crap, you're babbling, Charlie. Stop. "That place is bringing sexy back. Which is easy…"

" _S_ _top talking, Charlie!_ _"_

"... 'cause they kept the receipt. Stop talking, Charlie. Right. So, um, y-you were saying about going out, drinks?" At last my brain catches on to Dean's order and I start playing with my hair because, honestly, when I'm nervous I either babble or twist my hair. I just hope Bill did not catch onto my charade. Or rather the holes in it.

"Um... Yeah, yeah. That'd be great," Bill says. Phew, must be my lucky day. What are you talking about, Charlie? Lucky? But at least now I'm in the groove.

"Cool. Pencil that in. Hey, can I ask you a favor? The ladies' room downstairs is nasty. Can I use the exec washroom to powder my nose?" Smooth sailing, girl.

"Yeah, yeah. Why not? Um, it's right down the hall. It's the first door on the right," Bill supplies, helpful. I smile and wink at him as I walk past him. Out of his sight I walk past the ladies' room, zoning in on Dick Roman's office.

"I feel dirty." No harm in letting Dean know how hard this was for me

" _Y_ _ou and me both, sister._ " Haha, I can imagine. Alright, down to business.

"The eagle is landing. Going radio-silent."

" _Let us know when you're out._ "

You can bet your sexy ass on that, brother.


	19. Shadow Sam

**Part 1 of 2 - it's the same scene but this is Sam's POV and the next one will be Dean's POV.**

 **Season 1, "Shadow".**

 **A big thanks to NerdAngel, LilyBolt and ChicoThorn for the reviews!**

 **Just add salt ;)**

 *****sn*****

 **Sam POV**

"Big night," Dean says. His voice is crackling with anticipation.

"Yeah," I reply. "You nervous?"

He cocks an eyebrow.

"No. Why, are you?"

"No. No way," I quickly supply.

But yes, I am nervous. A bit. And I bet even though Dean is trying to treat this like every day's business, it's the big thing he's been waiting for. So of course he's nervous. He has to be. But he's the master of hiding it. We're both quiet for a moment. I bet he's following up on his own thoughts, same as I am. I don't like the silence, so I break it.

"God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, all right?"

Wow, he's the voice of reason. But I shouldn't be surprised. He's been hunting solo for a good while and he's still in one piece. Guess, following Dad's rules isn't all he is good at. Okay, not fair, Sam. Dean had never really wanted out of hunting like I did. At least not that I know. Those weeks that I'm back on the road with him now have been one gigantic rollercoaster for me.

I didn't really want to get back into hunting, but I had agreed, because I saw how much it meant to Dean to have me at his side while he was looking for Dad. And then that evil son of a bitch demon took Jessica. For a moment I understood how Dad must have felt and I wanted to get my revenge on that yellow-eyed bastard more than anything in the world. I just hoped, and still do, it won't take me a lifetime to do so.

But being on the road with Dean, saving people, hunting things, it makes me feel good. Makes me feel like I do something good. And it made me realize that I had missed my brother, no matter how infuriating he could be at times.

I know now what I want, and that is to return to my apple pie life as soon as we find Dad. Not so sure it's what Dean wants, but maybe, once this one major hunt is over, he will want out, too. I don't know why, but I have to know.

"I know. I'm just sayin', what if we did?" I look at him. "What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school—be a person again." Come on, Dean. Say you want it, too.

"You wanna go back to school?" He sounds surprised.

"Yeah, once we're done huntin' the thing."

"Huh."

"Why, is there somethin' wrong with that?"

Drat. This is not going the way I hoped it would go. Does he really love this life so much? Isn't there something more he wants to achieve for himself?

"No. No, it's, uh, great. Good for you."

I can hear the disappointment in his voice, close to a dismissal. Full of sarcasm. And I know right away he wants me to stick with him. To hunt together. But my mind is made up. Once we find Dad and kill the thing I'm done. Over and out.

"I mean, what are you gonna do when it's all over?" I am curious, Dean.

"It's never gonna be over. There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be somethin' to hunt." I was afraid he'd say something like that.

"But there's got to be somethin' that you want for yourself..." Seeing his eyes on me I trail off.

"Yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam." His voice holds traces of longing and I stare at him as he walks over to the dresser. Somehow that just gnaws on my frustration.

"Dude, what's your problem?"

It's a challenge that Dean meets with silence, leaving me to look at his back before turning around. His eyes are holding all his emotions, but some spill over into his voice.

"Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh? I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?"

" 'Cause Dad was in trouble. 'Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom." It was plain obvious, Dean. Or was it?

"Yes, that, but it's more than that, man." He returns to the dresser and is silent again. His voice quivers slightly when he starts to speak. "You and me and Dad, I mean, I want us… I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again."

For a split moment I see Dean as a little boy in my mind's eye. A little boy who had just lost his mother and had his childhood taken away from him in a cinch.

"Dean, we are a family. I'd do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before."

He looks downright heartbroken. I can see he wants his family so bad, but why does it have to be a hunting life? Damn, brother, I want us to be a family again, too. Leaving had been the hardest thing I'd ever done. But it had also been the best I'd ever done. It could be the same for you.

"Could be," he says, sadly.

"I don't want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way."

I look at him, imploringly. If he doesn't want out, he has to let me go because I just can't live this life anymore. Not when my purpose has gone.

The tension in our locked gaze is growing, but I'm determined to put across my point. It's not too late to get out, Dean. Either let me go or come with me. Dean averts his eyes, knowing he can't change my mind, but being equally determined to stick to his guns.

"Let's go," he says quietly, taking the lead.


	20. Shadow Dean

**Here's part 2 - same scene as before from Dean's perspective. Big thanks to Biensche and LilyBolt for their reviews... and to NerdAngel 'cause I know she always reviews, too.**

 **Just add salt ;)**

 *****sn*****

 **Dean POV**

"Big night," I say to Sammy while checking over my gun.

"Yeah," he replies hoarsly. "You nervous?"

Me? Nervous? Gee, Sammy, last time I was nervous was when you were on your first ever hunt.

"No," I reply nonchalantly. "Why? Are you?"

"No, no way," he says a bit too quickly.

Can't fool me, princess. Then our gazes meet. Instantly we know that we both haven't been entirely truthful. It's okay though, because the second you drop your guard and don't get nervous going into a hunt, something is bound to go wrong. Time to put on my game face to reassure my Gargantua brother.

"God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?"

Could I imagine? Hell, yes! I can imagine trapping it and then finding a way to hurt it in a zillion different ways before exorcizing that son of a bitch's ass back to where it came from. That yellow-eyed asshat deserves no less. But I have to remain calm.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, all right?"

We need to keep a level head and don't rush into it all emotionally, else we'll get our asses handed to us.

"I know. I'm just sayin', what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school, be a person again."

What are you, Sam? A girl? You can sleep when you're dead, Bitch. Yet the way he says this, it pulls at something deep inside me. I know he doesn't really want to hunt. But I had hoped...

"You wanna go back to school?"

I have to know this. Have to know where we're standing. These last weeks on the road with have been the closest I had in a while to a family life. It had ignited a spark within myself that had died the day Sam left for Stanford. I didn't want it to disappear again.

"Yeah, once we're done huntin' the thing."

Aw man, Sammy, don't mean it!

"Huh."

"Why, is there somethin' wrong with that?"

"No."

Yes! Where should I start?

"No, it's, uh, great. Good for you."

Smooth lying, Pinocchio. Let him choke on the sarcasm. The Sasquatch has made up his mind. No sense to cry over spilled milk. Damnit.

"I mean, what are you gonna do when it's all over?"

Seriously, Sammy? Hunting is the one thing I'm good at. I can't just quit, not after all we've seen. After all I've seen. Quitting is for wusses. I ain't one of them.

"It's never gonna be over. There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be somethin' to hunt."

Hunting is the family business. Again, it's the only thing I'm really good at.

"But there's got to be somethin' that you want for yourself..."

I can hear it in Sam's voice that he can't understand me. How can you be smart enough to get into Stanford and at the same time be so thick?

"Yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam."

Gotta spell it out for you, don't I? I turn and walk over to the dresser, keeping my back to him as I'm schooling my expression the best I can, in an attempt to hide my emotions.

"Dude, what's your problem?"

Isn't it obvious? I keep quiet for a bit and then turn to my not so little brother. Maybe he needs a little nudging. Maybe he'll come around.

"Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh? I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?"

Yes, Sam, there's a challenge in here.

" 'Cause Dad was in trouble. 'Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom."

Obviously, Sherlock. But to be honest, I can't stand being alone in all this. You left us, but at least it was Dad and me, hunting together most of the time. And then Dad disappeared. Hunting alone not knowing where your family is, whether they're safe, is a totally different thing to hunting alone, knowing you'll meet up with them afterwards.

"Yes, that, but it's more than that, man."

I quickly turn to face the dresser again, concealing my feelings, or at least I hope so. After a few moments of silence I address Sam again.

"You and me and Dad, I mean, I want us… I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again."

I need to be a family again. You, Dad, me, having each other's backs. Keeping people safe.

"Dean, we are a family. I'd do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before."

Really, Sam? I know that. I know that and it makes my heart break because it evokes the memory I have of the time before this thing entered our lives, when my family still was Mom, Dad, me and my baby brother.

"Could be," I mumble, knowing it's not entirely true, but I want to believe it.

"I don't want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way."

I don't know if I can, Sammy. I will cross that bridge when I get there. For now, time to focus at the task on hand. Tag along, Bitch.

"Let's go, Sam."


End file.
